


Massage

by Arielphf



Series: Frodo's Harem [10]
Category: Lord of the Rings - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Frodo's Harem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-25
Updated: 2011-08-25
Packaged: 2017-10-23 01:39:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/244832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arielphf/pseuds/Arielphf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What little talents these haremites have....</p>
<p>This is a story from the Frodo's Harem AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It all began quite innocently.

That is what I told myself, anyway. Bilbo was visiting and had complained that his feet pained him after the long walk to Bag End West, and, since I had always been fond of Frodo’s uncle, I agreed to rub them for him. He had been most pleased with my attentions and had teasingly suggested that I was the most talented masseuse he had ever been subject to. I had blushed and sputtered but was pleased with the compliment. I don’t remember where I picked up the skill, my old life before I came to this isle seems almost a forgotten memory, but I know the lay of the muscles, their attachment points, where to press and how hard to relieve pain. My sisters even began asking for rubs after long days at work in the garden or cleaning and I have always been happy to oblige them.  

The only person who has never asked for a massage is Frodo. The stay on Tol Eressea has eased much of his pain, indeed, even Bilbo shouldn’t need the massages he comes often to Bag End for, but I always wondered why my lord never asked me to do him this service, since it obviously gives everyone else such pleasure. Bilbo has none of his nephew’s reservations and compliments me loudly and often – something which still makes me blush. One day, while I was in the study with Bilbo, Frodo and a couple of the other ladies who stay here, rubbing Bilbo’s ‘tired’ shoulders, I noticed a look on Frodo’s face I hadn’t seen before. He seemed to be almost uncomfortable with my actions. He was looking sidelong at me from beneath his long dark lashes, barely noticing the lady whose hair he was absently stroking. I wondered if he disapproved, but certainly he would have said something! My fingers faltered and Bilbo looked up at me with a twinkle in his eye.

“Ah, my lady, your hands are as soothing as warm milk. Please, continue! I have a few kinks left you haven’t attended to yet!” I smiled and resumed kneading through the muscles of Bilbo’s back. He was positively purring, his eyes had a half lidded almost sleepy look and he let out a sigh of pleasure, which could be heard throughout the small room.  

“Ouch!” exclaimed the lady by Frodo’s feet. I looked up to see her eyeing Frodo ruefully and rubbing her head. Frodo’s face was flushed a bit and he looked embarrassed. “Tangles are best combed through gently, my lord,” she continued, but there was no reproach in her voice. All the same, Frodo did look uncomfortable. I patted Bilbo on the shoulder and suggested that perhaps I had best continue his massage at a later time. Bilbo seemed most regretful, but there was a twinkle in his eye, and I swear he noticed the effect my actions were having on his nephew and was taking great delight in it. I gave the old hobbit a wry grin and one last squeeze before giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.  

“I’ll hold I to that, young lady!” Bilbo exclaimed as I left the room. “Frodo thinks I come to visit him, but I’m really up here to see you. Your touch is as comforting as any elven song and as warm as this cozy fire – if I were but 50 years younger…!” He winked at me teasingly. It was an old game between the two of us. Glancing over, I noticed there was still a strange look on Frodo’s face. Surely he could not be jealous of my affections! He must have known that what I did for his uncle was innocent? For the first time, I began to regret the situation my skills had placed me in.  

~*~

It was a week later before I had my next chance to be alone with Frodo. I was walking by the study and noticed him alone with a large bound volume on his lap and a steaming cup of tea by his side. I had wanted to talk to him about things and it seemed a perfect opportunity. I knocked timidly and though Frodo smiled when he looked up, I saw a faint shadow fall upon him when he recognized me. It tore at my heart.

“Frodo?” I asked. “Might I have a word with you?” He nodded and set aside his book. I entered the room and settled on the sofa near his chair. He waited patiently, but I was having difficulty forming the thoughts I wished to share with him into words. “You know I enjoy making others happy,” I said and Frodo nodded warily. “It fills me with joy to know that something I can do can give so much pleasure to others, but if it gives you distress, I will stop – immediately. You are my lord, and I would rather please you than any other in this world.” I said these words softly, but I hope with all the earnestness I felt. Frodo’s wary look faded and his warm smile returned.

“I have been rather foolish in this, haven’t I?” he asked. I looked up and shook my head, but Frodo held his hand up to quiet me. “I know your love is very great and your heart is large enough to encompass all those I hold dear…” A faint blush began to rise on his cheek. “But I must confess, watching you bring such obvious pleasure to my uncle fills me with an almost unwholesome desire for you in my own heart!” He had turned quite red by then and I found the look both endearing and troubling.  

“But Frodo! All you need to do is ask! I would never deny you any pleasure – surely you know that!”

He cocked an eyebrow and gave me an apologetic grin. “Yes, I know. It isn’t you I am afraid of, but me! The thoughts that run through my head when I watch you…” His blush deepened still more. “Well, …they are positively indecent! I am quite literally afraid to ask you… I am afraid your touch would drive me mad!”

I felt flustered too, but I was struck suddenly with an overwhelming desire to get him under my hands. I had never massaged anyone I desired as I have always desired him, and the sensuality of the act had never quite occurred to me. But suddenly, I could feel something of what he was describing and the thoughts that came unbidden to me, my yearning to touch him, astonished me. I was stunned and overwhelmed with sudden understanding, but the only word I could utter was a breathy, “Oh!”

“Yes, you see it now, don’t you?” He smiled. “I generally like to remain in control of these situations – and somehow, I doubt I could be at such an occasion.”

“But my lord!” My breath was husky, I paused to clear my throat and regain some composure. “You don’t know that! Oh, I could not bear it if you were never to come to me because you were afraid of yourself! I love you deeply and would never harm you! Please give me the chance to prove myself. I will be gentle, please don’t be afraid!”

He reached out to cradle my cheek. “It would be unfair of me to hold you at arm’s length for such a foolish reason. Very well. I give myself to you at our next meeting. I will trust your skills and hope I am wrong.”

 

_Oh, but I secretly hoped he was right!_

 


	2. Oil

Frodo keeps a small book of his appointments and since there are several of us with him here, he likes to use it so that he is sure to show no one of us any favoritism. I put my name in his book requesting an evening he had free and began to prepare. Though I doubted I would ever be able to give him the same level of pleasure he always gave me, I gathered together the tools I would need to make my night with him one he would remember long. I had made a white silk dress, of elven design, with tiny buttons running up the front. It was cut both low and high and it was something I intended to wear over a demure chemise, but for this occasion, I planned on wearing nothing whatsoever under it. I found a worn piece of wood that had been sanded to satin smoothness, it’s knobs and length fitted comfortably in my hands. I used similar ones to reach the deepest muscles of the back, but this one I would use on no one but him. Last of all, I prepared the oils.  

My sisters and I use herb flavored oils in cooking and I have long known how to draw the essence of a summer flower or scent of leaf into a fine draught of it, but the ones I prepared this time were special. These were flavored with apple and spices, almond and honey, even summer blueberry and all as delicious to taste as they were to smell. I chuckled wickedly, imagining these tastes mingled with the heady scent and already sweet taste of him. It was an image that invaded my mind even as I worked and set me to daydreaming for long hours as I awaited my time with him.  

When the appointed evening finally came, I gathered my tools together and placed them all in a covered basket. I donned my gown and examined my reflection in the mirror. I looked positively obscene dressed this way and the sight gave me a chuckle. I had promised to be gentle with him, but I suddenly realized I had absolutely no intention of being so! I draped my self with a soft, shapeless cloak and proceeded to Frodo’s room.

He was waiting for me and drew me inside with polite courtesy. I set my basket down and looked about. The fire was bright and the room was warm, the bed had been turned back to reveal crisp white sheets under a fine, soft quilt. I had been to this room many times before, but that night the very air seemed to crackle with my excitement.  

“What have you brought?” Frodo asked curiously looking at my basket. His voice sounded so innocent and unguarded.  

“Delights…” I answered cryptically, but instead of clarifying, I gestured towards the bed. “Shall we begin, my lord?” I asked.

“What do you wish me to do?” His tone was softer then, more sensual. I could not hide my delighted smile.  

“First, I must prepare you.” I said and reached to gently remove his waistcoat. Then I slipped his braces first off of one shoulder, then the other, leaving them to hang tantalizingly from his hips. I must have been blushing when I pulled his shirt from his breeches and begin unbuttoning it from the bottom up. He was smiling at me but with amusement. When I had it undone, I asked him to take it off and lie upon the bed on his stomach. He obliged and sighed as he settled comfortably in the center, his head resting on his arms.

“Look towards the fire, my lord,” I said, and he did so. Hidden from his view, I slipped out of my cloak and reached into my basket for a bottle of the oil I had prepared and the smooth piece of wood. I slipped the vial between my breasts to warm it and proceeded to the bed. The pale expanse of his back lay before me like an unmarked canvas. I put the wood on the bed and wiggled my fingers to limber them. I had imagined this scene in my mind for days and the imminent reality of it gave me pause. His skin was so smooth and, except for the scars he would bear to the end of his days, flawless. I reached up to his neck and my hands grasped his shoulders. My thumbs made deep, circling motions into and around the tissues there. I worked these muscles for several minutes and I could feel him relaxing easily under my hands.

“Oh, yes…” he sighed and closed his eyes in delight. The sight of his long lashes lying against his ruddy cheek was an image I had long cherished and I leaned forward to kiss that cheek, unable to resist. He smiled, too relaxed to stir. “Your hands ARE soothing, my love. I have denied myself a treat, it seems.” I smiled but said nothing, concentrating on the rest of his delicious muscles instead.  

I kept my touch soft, but strong and using the smooth, rounded end of the stick of wood, dug deep into the knotted muscles of his back. By the end of a half an hour Frodo was completely limp under me. He was unguarded and probably no more than a hair’s breadth from sleep. I smiled wickedly. Now, I could begin in earnest. I slipped my hands under him from both sides at his waist and he jumped as he felt my fingers at the buttons of his trousers. “Relax…” I commanded and he did so almost unwillingly. I then slipped the trousers down his legs revealing his hips, rounded buttocks, and strong, lean thighs. It was a sight I had seen before, but one I cannot help savoring each time I am privileged to it. “Now, the legs…” I explained and proceeded to kneed the muscles of his upper thigh with my fingers and the knobby sides of the stick. He was tense at first, not sure what I meant to do, but soon relaxed again as I worked my way down his legs. At his feet I stopped and touched the vial of oil between my breasts. It had warmed through and I smiled again. It was time. I finished by a vigorous and penetrating massage of his feet – something that drew a groan of pleasure from him, but did not arouse his suspicions. I shook my hands to ease them, for the work had tired me, and allowed him a moment’s reprieve.

“Hmmmm….” Frodo sighed. “I can see what Bilbo means by ‘soothing as warm milk’ my dearest. You HAVE talent…” The words were mumbled into the bed sheets and slurred by his slack, relaxed lips. I took the vial of oil from my breasts. A vague scent drifted from around its stopper. I gathered up my skirts and climbed onto the bed to gently straddle his back. He was instantly aware of my nakedness beneath the outer garment and his eyes flew open.  

“Not yet…” I whispered as I dropped the silk of my skirts behind me over his legs and carefully opened the vial. The sweet scent of apples and cinnamon drifted into the fire lit room and Frodo frowned curiously.

“What is that?” He whispered.

 TBC


	3. Apple and Spice

“Shhhhh…” I answered and drizzled the warm oil sparingly over his back. It was the same temperature as his body, so at first he could feel nothing, but when I began the long, penetrating strokes – the ones that started at the base of his spine, and continued, uninterrupted, to his shoulders – and my hands slid easily over him, he realized what I had done. He was almost purring as I rolled his smooth skin under my hands and it was many minutes before he said anything even remotely like a sentence.  

“That stuff almost smells good enough to eat,” he murmured, meaning the scented oils. I chuckled and it was a soft, throaty sound that surprised even me.  

“It is good enough to eat…” I whispered. “And so are you.” I leaned over to his neck and began tasting the oils I had spread there. The apple and spice was not sweet but heady and mixed with his rich, musky flavor it was maddeningly delicious. I couldn’t get enough of it and my tongue reached eagerly into the buttery soft crease of his turned neck. His lips parted and through my thighs I felt his urgent groan as he savored the feeling of my mouth on him.  

I don’t know how he managed it, but in an instant he had rolled beneath me, gotten his left arm around my body and pulled me onto my back on the bed. For a moment I was looking up into his shadowed face, his eyes glittering in the firelight, and then he kissed me.

It was like no kiss I could ever remember. His lips were very soft, relaxed and full, and they caressed me with such tenderness I was almost brought to tears. He pulled me closer and propped himself on his elbows, one on either side of my shoulders, and put his hands under my head. Gently cradled between his mouth and his hands, I could feel him softly parting my lips, reaching, it seemed, to take the taste of apple from me. He sucked my bottom lip into his mouth and stroked it slowly with his tongue. Over and over he caressed me with soft, wet lips that said, more clearly and with more depth than any word spoken possibly could, ‘I love you…’.

When he began to brush gently against my cheek, I sighed and closed my eyes. It was heavenly… but… I reached up to his face. “Wait…” I sighed. The word was very difficult to say. I would have dearly loved to continue right from here. “I have not finished… Please, my lord, I want to please you.” I opened my eyes and looked at him. The love I bore him filled my heart and I feared it would burst from the overflowing passion. “There is so much more… I want to fill you with delight.” My speech faltered in the light of his angelic face. “For all you have given me, please let me give you this gift.” He smiled and it was like the warm touch of dawn, but he rolled to his side to let me up. I drew a deep breath and with fingers that I could barely control, began to undo the buttons of my dress. It was a slow process and he lay on his side, resting on an elbow to watch me. From the corner of my vision, I could see his bright eyes glittering with desire, but I dared not look at him. I hungered for him, but wanted to finish what I had started. He deserved the best I could give him and I was not half through the pleasures I had planned. He put his left hand on my trembling ones and with agonizing slowness, began to help me undo the buttons. Sighing, I relinquished the task to him. The slow tickle of his fingers on my skin was maddening and almost as difficult to resist as his kisses, but I managed somehow to control myself. The last button came free and he spread the dress apart. He rested his warm hand softly on my belly in a gesture of trust and tenderness. He would let me lead him.

I sat up and slipped the dress from my shoulders with a sigh. This was beginning to be the hardest thing I had ever tried to do. It required a will of iron that I did not know I possessed to slip from the bed, but somehow I managed it. I walked to my basket on numb legs and reach inside for the next of my ‘delights’.

 

tbc...

 


	4. Almond and Honey

He watched me as I walked back with the vial. His pale, lean form was laid easily on the bed. His arms outstretched in front of him and his darkly curled head resting upon them. There was a languid smile on his lips. He trusted me. I drew a hand gently along the graceful curve of his shoulder, down his back and across the perfect line of his buttocks. His smile broadened and he closed his eyes with a sigh. I climbed back up onto the bed and straddled his thighs. This oil had not had a chance to warm, but I unstoppered it and poured a generous golden line across my own chest. I poured more into my hand and spread it slowly across my belly. The warming scent of almond filled the space around me and Frodo sniffed the air curiously. From his vantage, he could not see what I was doing.  

“Almonds.” He said softly. “And something else…”  

“A touch of honey,” I answered. “Although, you need no added sweetness, beloved. It is just a bit of summer clover and sunshine to warm you.” I restoppered the vial as he chuckled.

“Oh, I think I are doing that already, all by yourself.”  

I rubbed my hands together releasing a strong blast of almond scent. It was heady and rich, as intoxicating as the hobbit that lay before me. I reached down and, placing my hands just below his waist, where his largest muscles attach to bone, I pressed down. My oil-covered palms slid slowly off his hips and his barely perceptible grunt of pleasure thrilled me. I repeated the motion many times, moving just slightly lower with each pass.  

He was tense when I started, quite probably he had never been touched in quite this way, but as my hands moved smoothly and surely over the smooth rounded muscles of his buttocks and hips, he relaxed, though, I could tell from the increasing furrow of his brow, it was an effort for him to do so. The thought delighted me. I raised myself on my knees and lay my oil-covered body over his. Then, like a seal emerging from the surf, I glided over him, pulling myself along his back; arching my hips deep into the muscles I had just finished tending. He drew in a sharp, astonished breath and I could feel his body writhing beneath me. Sheets muffled his sharp exclamation that sounded vaguely like an expletive…but I knew he never said such things! Frodo raised himself on his elbows, and pressed his face firmly into his hands as if to keep himself under control. I wrapped my thighs around his torso and stroked his sides firmly as I glided back down his body. The strong scent of almond penetrated the air as I rode up and over the firm mound of his backside.  

“Sweet Eru….” Frodo’s whole body trembled as I began another stroke. The feel of him under me was making me giddy, but his so obvious delight spurred me on to persevere. With each drawn out pass his breathing became more labored and his trembling more pronounced, but I did not relinquish until he, at last, dropped flat onto the bed, trembling and spent. I paused, straddling his back, thinking him finished, but it was not so. More quickly than I thought possible, he turned under me. My thighs were slippery, I could not hold him and he was on his back reaching around my waist before I could even think. He drew my body to him and began kissing my belly with those ever so soft lips. Then I had to bite off my own exclamation of shocked delight. As he tasted the delicious oil that covered my body, he began to lick it off my skin, his wet tongue gliding hungrily over my trembling waist. It was too much for me to bear. My head was spinning and I felt faint. His licks were intermingled with impassioned bites and kisses and I knew I would not be able to hold out any longer.  

“Please…..” My agonized cry stopped him. He looked up at me and the wildness in his eyes was shocking and exhilarating. Slowly, I slid back down to lay full upon his taut belly. I took his face between my hands and kissed him, gently and deeply. Almond, but the sweetness I tasted was him, not the honey. I plunged into his kiss. I could not drink in enough of this rare luscious flavor.  

I felt his hands at my waist, pushing my hips down. He was there, ready and eager between my thighs, but though I ached to feel him inside me, there was one last vial of oil…  

“Wait!” I gasped and squirmed against him. He was quite unwilling to release me, but after a moment and with an obvious effort, he let go of my hips. “There is more…” I whispered.

His passion so totally consumed him that his voice was barely understandable. “I don’t think I can take any more…” he growled. I stroked my thumbs across his knitted brows, soothingly, lovingly.  

“Trust me, beloved…. “ I whispered and kissed the then smoothed place above the bridge of his nose. “I have one more delight for you….”

 

tbc....

 


	5. Summer Blueberry

How I managed to get my feet back onto the floor again, I will never know. I stumbled to my basket and grabbed the handle, knowing there was no way I would be able to force myself from Frodo’s bed again to get anything else out of it. I drew a deep breath. I was still on fire from his touch. He lay back, his eyes closed, drawing in deep, controlling breaths. In the firelight his body gleamed golden and shimmering where the oil coated him. In all my life, I had never seen anything to match his beautiful perfection. I came to him and crawled onto the bed. He had not opened his eyes, but his breathing was easier. There was a faint smile on his flushed, red lips and his eyelids quivered with his barely contained excitement.

From the basket, I drew forth the last of my treasures; another vial of oil. This bottle was darker, with an almost grey tint in the dim firelight. I pulled out the stopper and the faint scent of sweet blueberries wafted from its cork. This was my favorite and I had saved it for last. I poured a pool of the liquid into my hand, restoppered it and set it and the basket at my feet. Rubbing the oil released a scent that always reminded me of summer, of warm lazy days on the meadow and of the hot sun beating down on my neck as I bent to collect tiny berries. It was the scent of peace, of friendship and of love, for I always gathered them for the one who lay before I, my beloved lord, Frodo.

I leaned forward and raised my hands to his dear face. His lips parted as I touched a finger to them and he tasted the oil on my hand. A slow, affectionate smile grew on him as he recognized the flavor. He had always associated it with me. I make the most fabulous pies and tarts from the berries I pick and though I make enough for all, HE knows they are my gift to him, the expression of my love and the promise of my heart.

I placed my hands on either side of his face and began to rub his brow in slow, gentle circles, working the scent deep into his skin. My fingers traced lovingly along the bridge of his fine straight nose, into the muscles of his high cheeks, along the strong line of his square jaw. My thumbs worked the areas at the edge of his mouth, the place where his lips turn deliciously down, almost like a pout. The muscles were thick there, exercised by the many smiles he has worn since coming to Tol Eressea, and I massaged them gently to ensure they would be up to making many more. My motions moved his lips into almost comical shapes and I laughed before kissing them again. He responded by wrapping his arms about my oil-covered body and drawing me closer. His kiss was almost better than the last, for it was as tender and passionate, but this time his lips conveyed a strong flame of desire. He hungered for me and I could feel his urgency in every soft, wet caress. My head spun in the intoxicating atmosphere of blueberry and velvety kisses – I could resist him no longer.

My palms pressed flat on his chest and I moved the sweet oil across his smooth skin. There was still enough on my hands to spread across his body and send a fresh blast of the fragrance into the room. I rubbed his strong torso in long, even strokes, but when my hand began spreading oil in the hollow of his hip, he gasped anew and broke off from the kiss he held me in. I quickly reached down for more oil and begin drizzling it lightly across his belly. The sound he made then was almost a whimper, as if he was begging me to forgo this tortuous delight, but I grinned and began gently but firmly working the stuff into his chest, sides and stomach. He sighed, luxuriating in the feel of my hands on his body and I savored the exploration of every delightful part of him.

I slid sinuously over his thigh and settled on my knees in the space between his legs. He had not relaxed at all since I started with the blueberry and was still hard and ready for me. I admired his iron control, but planned on putting his resolve to an even sterner test. More oil.

His hips had always thrilled me, the hollow places formed by the curve of bone and muscle. He was so soft there. I leaned forward and ran my hands up and down his sides, pointedly ignoring the fact that my hard nipples were tickling him in places that made him quiver and jump. His brow creased again, but he was enjoying himself far too much to want to break this spell….yet. I smoothed the glossy oil into the soft patch of skin under his right hip and could not resist tasting him again. As my tongue gently caressed him he groaned in earnest. He stiffened even more and I could feel him against my cheek, but I could not stop – the flavor of him, and the feel of his trembling muscles under my mouth were driving me to ecstasy. I pushed deep into the hollow, licking his smooth pale skin, holding his hips tight against me with both hands. He arched hard and his guttural cry filled the room as he reached down for me with hands that would not be denied. He pulled me up and I slid across his hardness. He would not have let me stop him then. I continued to taste him as he drew me across his body, pausing only at his delightful nipples, so dark on his alabaster chest, to take a taste of the almond oil that still lingered there.

His hands held my hips firmly and I looked down into his brilliant eyes. They glittered wildly in the half-light, their depths dark with desire and I felt caught in the web of his overwhelming passion. I could not look away. He lifted me and I felt him urgent and unerringly strong between my thighs. My secret places tingled with aching fire as he slipped me down and slid deep into me. My universe contracted till I could see only his sparkling, luminous eyes, like dark blue pools of passion over which the light of fireflies danced. I felt his hands pushing my hips down hard, onto the part of him that delved deep into my body. The gasping groan of pleasure I uttered shook us both. In all my life I have never felt anything so profoundly satisfying. It was worth every bit of the wait and teasing.

My back arched involuntarily and I tried to drive him deeper. I moved on him like a dancer, sinuously arching away and then thrusting my hips forward to drop heavily onto him. His eyes were still dark, but the crease had returned to his brow as it took all his power to hold himself. I arched away again and the feel of him against me drove all thought from my mind. I wanted only him…. I wanted to take pleasure from him and give it in return. My hips began to move on their own, in shaking, circling motions that rocked him inside me and sent waves of ecstasy up my spine. I heard the impassioned cries but could not tell if they came from him or from me, but they spurred me on to move faster and plunge harder onto him.

He sat up and put his hands on the bed behind him. His face was rock hard and tensing. He drove his hips into me, meeting my thrusts, but I was slippery… it was hard to hold on. He grasped my waist with one arm and held me against him. His mouth was at my breast and I could feel his teeth biting me, teasing the hard flesh with animal hunger. It was more than I could bear and my eyes rolled back as I felt my climax building. He was a wild thing consuming me, biting at my flesh, licking the sweet oil and sweat between my breasts. He could not get enough of me. He moved beneath me and placed both hands around my waist. He pulled out of me a little and I cried out in protest, but he moved quickly and I suddenly found myself on my back with him above me. He paused for what seemed an eternity to stare down into my face. The firelight was dim and I could see only the sparkle of his eyes among his soft dark curls. He was a creature of night and shadow full of bestial desire and he would devour me utterly.

He began again, but slowly and it drove me mad. I could feel every inch of him moving firmly in and out, sliding hard along me with infinite purpose. He raised himself off me and held himself up with trembling arms and legs. The sensation of his strength in check, but barely, sent me reeling into faintness. How could he keep himself so?! I was shaking and overwhelmed but my body opened wide to receive all of him. Now I could not get enough of him. I writhed beneath him digging my fingers into his back in a desperate plea that I could have never gotten past my clenched teeth. It was sweet torture and I knew he was giving me back some of what I had been giving to him. My trembling cries filled the room as he glided with aching slowness into and out of me.

It was more than I could bear and I felt my climax rising again faster and more forcefully than before. My body rocked and heaved; I was a wild thing unable to control myself. I wrapped my legs around his hips and held on, arching into him, aching for the release he had brought me right to the brink of. When it came it rolled over me like a wave. I felt inexorably consumed by fire and light, suffocated by overwhelming sensation, every corner of my being was filled with profound bliss. I cried out piercingly in the darkening room and another swell rose within me. I had never felt this so powerfully before. Wave after wave of deliciously sweet, blindingly bright flame filled my body. They shook me, rocked me and drove every conscious thought from my mind. I surrendered to them completely letting them wash over and through me leaving me reeling in their wake.

I was aware he watched me throughout my climax, drinking in the sight with animal hunger but holding himself in tight check. When I could think again I marveled at his strength and will. I was spent and totally shaken, but he is still hard and strong within me. He took the pillows and shoved them roughly beneath my hips. He positioned himself on his knees and grasped my body with both hands to drive himself into me. I was still trembling with aftershocks and could feel the slightest motion he made. He was animal once more, charging roughly, clawing at my body to grind deep inside. I whimpered, able to do nothing but ride this overwhelming tide.

Harder and faster he drove himself into me, shaking my whole body with the force of his thrusts. His breath was ragged and groaning, his body simmered with sweat and oil but his hands were strong and dug deep into my hips. He would not let go, and he would not be denied. I looked up into his eyes. They were wide, dark and shining, glazed over and fixed upon me. His mouth was open and yearning and I saw the tension in his shoulders, arms and hard stomach. I felt the change as it came to him and shook him as thoroughly as it had just shaken me. When he cried out, a grunting animal sound, my exhausted body responded. He filled me with his warmth with a shuddering, aching, arching thrust. Another rushing wave rose to consume me. It was too much. I hadn’t even a chance to wonder how it was possible for him to take me to such heights again so quickly. Blood rushed in my ears and I was overcome, fainting, melting into a pool of ecstatic forgetfulness.

 

and finally.... tbc...


	6. Spent

“Are you all right?” His voice in my ear sounded concerned. He was lying across my body, warm and wet from exertion. I gasped as I felt him slide out of me, spent.

“Oh sweet Eru,…” I breathed softly. “What did you DO to me?” He chuckled and rolled onto his back beside me.

“Nothing you didn’t do to me, my dear!” He closed his eyes and smiled dreamily. “I guess I was right after all.”

I was still trying to take stock in my surroundings. “Wha…? What do I mean?” I asked, still trying to figure out what had happened. He looked at me and his smile was wicked.

“I was right. Your touch does drive me mad.” He rolled back and gathered me into his sweaty, oil covered arms. “You have a dangerous talent, my dear, far too hazardous for my uncle to bear. Better he find his own masseuse to tend him, for I think I shall be keeping you very, very busy.”

 

The end...?


End file.
